Disarrayed Minds
by Mrs. Naara
Summary: When tragedy strikes the Gold household, Rumpelstiltskin comforts his wife.


**A/N: So, I think the plot bunnies will end up killing me one day, but you know what? I don't care. Because the idea is fresh. I'm also filling a prompt from accio-firewhiskey. I hope you don't mind that I turned it into this, because honestly: your prompt was DEEP. Thanks for that. For the record the prompt was this: Rumbelle: The only paradise is paradise lost - Marcel Proust**

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**Disarrayed Minds**

Description: When tragedy strikes the Gold household, Rumpelstiltskin comforts his wife.

Rating: PG-13 for alcohol use, swearing, brief "sexual" situations, and angsty circumstances.

World: Storybrooke AU.

So without further ado, here is "Disarrayed Minds"

* * *

In retrospect, it was probably not the best idea for Rumpelstiltskin to stay at the Pawn Shop after receiving the urgent phone call from Sheriff Swan about his wife. In fact, it would have been the best choice for him to close the shop right then and rush to the hospital to meet his wife there.

But he didn't.

What kind of monster was he, to leave his wife—who had just received, without a doubt, news that would live with her for the rest of her life? News that would create a fissure in their relationship that would never be bridged and a gap in both of their hearts that would never _ever _be filled?

He had to be a real _bastard_. That's what.

Emma had offered to take their two children and let them spend the night on the pull-out couch at her and Mary Margaret's apartment. After all, Mary Margaret absolutely _adored _Annalise and Wesley, and they adored her in return. Who didn't love Mary Margaret Blanchard? Emma told him that she would give the cherished elementary schoolteacher a call, and have her bring his 10 year old and his 7 year old to the apartment. She also offered to (after making sure that his Belle was stable enough to leave the hospital) take his wife home and be with her until he could pull himself away from work to be with her in this hard time.

However it wasn't "work" that he was going to have to pull himself away from. It was overwhelming guilt and regret that he wasn't by her side the minute he had heard. That was _his _mistake… and it was probably the biggest one he would ever make in his entire life other than pushing her away.

Which he was doing now, wasn't he?

That decided it. Goddamn it—he was going to be with his wife or so let him drop dead on the pawn shop's floor right then. He gathered his things, his suit jacket, his keys, and his cane, and he flipped the sign over, and locked the door, making his way to his car so that he could get home nearly as fast as the vehicle would take him.

* * *

He saw Sheriff Swan's squad car parked outside. The atmosphere surrounding his home was gloomy and heavy, obliterating the cheerful, lighthearted, atmosphere that normally surrounded the pink and teal mansion in which he resided. He pressed his small brass house key into the lock and held onto it for a brief moment before turning it and letting the front door swing open. He stepped into the house and removed the key from the lock putting the key ring back into his pocket. As he shut the door behind him, he heard Emma's boots on the stairs, and he looked up to see her descending the case with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. He assumed that it contained clothing and toys for his children. She stepped onto the landing and saw him staring at her.

"Good luck Mr. Gold, I couldn't stop her from getting into the liquor cabinet," she said brushing a blonde curl behind her ear. His gaze averted up the stairs towards the bedroom he shared with his wife, and then he looked at Emma again. Her face displayed a mix of sadness and sympathy, and she too looked on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry for your loss…" Mr. Gold stared at the floor and clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Thank you, Miss Swan, for keeping an eye on my wife. She's been through a lot today," he muttered, his Scottish brogue heavy and tired. Emma nodded, readjusting her grip on the duffel bag. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder and forced him to meet her gaze. Her soft frown reflected the overwhelming sadness that was enveloping this house and everyone inside it. "Oh, and reassure my children that things are okay. To them, _nothing happened,"_ he said. Emma nodded and moved to leave the house without another word to the pawnbroker. The door shut silently behind her and he moved farther into the house, peering into the kitchen where the liquor cabinet hung wide open, having been ransacked of about two bottles of the strongest alcohol that he owned.

He quickly made his way up the stairs, to the right, and pushed the bedroom door open, standing in the doorway and watching his wife take a swig of whiskey in the darkness of the room. The full length curtains were drawn tight, and all of the lights were off. The sheets were a complete mess, pushed around and wrinkled. Her bloodshot blue eyes met his gaze before turning away. Rumpelstiltskin moved over to her side of the bed and took hold of the half-empty liquor bottle in her hand, wrenching it away from her hands.

"What are you doing?" she sloshed angrily. "Give that back to me!" She was completely drunk out of her mind, and he could tell. How could she do this to herself after what had happened? He put the bottle out of his wife's reach as she pouted like a child. He made his way back over to her and stood by the bed.

"Love, you're obviously in no condition to be drinking right now," he tried to reason. He was rewarded with a powerful smack across the face. His cheek stung and was no doubt bright red. He snapped his head in the direction of his wife, who had fire in her eyes and anger in her features. He held his stinging cheek in his palm and stared at Belle in disbelief.

"How _dare _you!" she cried. Rumpelstiltskin was confused. She had never lashed out at him like this before. "How _dare you_ tell me what condition I am in. How DARE YOU control what I do to my own body! You have no IDEA what the fuck I've been through today, and you weren't even there to be with me in the thick of the situation!" Tears rolled down her cheeks and stained the sheets. "It wasn't just what I lost; it's what _we lost_, Rumpelstiltskin. THREE FUCKING MONTHS of our lives WASTED, only for something like this to happen." He reached out to comfort her, but was pushed away.

"Love…I…" he started, but Belle silenced him again.

"Imagine what it's like to be in a public place, and all of a sudden you are on the ground _writhing _in pain, because your three month old child is leaving your body. To suddenly be bleeding and placed on a gurney, and then to be told what you already know! That the child you so longingly anticipated and planned is _dead_. Do you have any idea what that's like?" she yelled angrily. He lowered his hand to his cane and lowered his head.

"Love, I'm so sorry…" he mumbled. "I'm so, so, so, so, sorry. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you, that I was too much of a coward to leave the shop so that we could be together in this tough time. I'm sorry…" he dropped his cane and took her into his arms, letting her cry into his jacket. "I'm sorry…" he repeated over and over again.

* * *

They ended up curled together on the bed. Rumpelstiltskin had shed his jacket, leaving it on the floor in a heap. His dress shirt was unbuttoned half-way down. His shoes and black leather belt were discarded on the floor, as were his socks. Belle only wore one of his other shirts—a dark violet one that ran to about mid-thigh—and a clean set of undergarments. Belle had her head on his chest, listening to her husband's heartbeat. She had long since stopped her bawling, but she would occasionally hiccup. Every ten minutes or so she would remember exactly what had happened and bury her head in his chest, crying softly while he rubbed her back.

"The only paradise is paradise lost…" she murmured softly at one point. Her husband glared down at her.

"What do you mean by that, love?" Rumpelstiltskin muttered. Belle adjusted herself in his arms so that she was closer to him.

"A man by the name of Marcus Proust explained that the nature of paradise is one that is inherently temporary," she clarified. "That when paradise ends, our emotions run a certain course…surprise, sadness, anger, and indifference."

"And?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, moving his hand up and down her back again. She sighed before going on.

"I figure that while losing our child is overwhelmingly disheartening and tragic…we shouldn't stop seeking paradise…" she said indifferently. Her husband kissed her hair and inhaled her scent.

"What are you getting at, love?" he asked after a moment. She sighed.

"I want you to make love to me…" she murmured. He let go of her and sat up on his elbows, staring at his wife with utter shock. She followed shortly after him.

"Belle…my love…" he started before she pressed her index finger to his lips to silence him.

"I need you now more than anything, Rumpelstiltskin," she said. "I lost something very dear to me. I need to know that you love me, regardless of what happens. I need you to be inside me. I need you to _show_ me the extent of your love." She was obviously growing aroused just speaking of it. She pressed her legs together to help relieve the pressure that had settled there.

"Belle…it's a little soon for that, don't you think?" Rumpelstiltskin tried to reason, also trying to hide the fact that he was growing hard. Not that his secrecy was effective as his wife kissed the pulse point in his neck, sucking there for a moment. He groaned loudly and leaned into her touch, running his hand over her breast.

"It's obvious that you want this…_need this_…as much as I do," she groaned in his ear, her warm breath on the outside of his ear progressing his erection even further. She grabbed his length through his pants and tugged, causing another groan to erupt from his mouth before he closed his lips over hers in a passionate lip lock. He broke away shortly after, pushing his wife away.

"Belle…Belle we _**can't**_ have sex right now," Rumpelstiltskin said sternly. "_**You just miscarried**_. There is no way that you are going to be healthy enough for this for at least two weeks…maybe longer depending."

"I don't care!" she practically yelled, reaching for him again. He grabbed her wrists and sat them both up on the bed. She flailed her arms, trying to break free. "Let me _go_!" she screeched.

"No! Not until you listen to me!" he yelled back at her. "It is unsafe for us to do this, Belle! We can't have sex right now!" she clenched her jaw angrily, the alcohol taking over again. She began flailing.

"Rum; please! I _need you_!" she cried, tears streaking her cheeks. "Don't you love me?"

Oh gods. She did NOT just say that. He could _smell _the whiskey in her breath. He was even tempted to smack the alcohol out of her system, and then kiss away any doubt of him not loving her. But he didn't budge, he kept holding onto her wrists. She stared at him with alcohol induced anger embedded into her features.

"Of course I do!" he growled in her face. "Never _ever _say that again. Do you understand me?" he scolded her. Tears streaked his face now. He pressed his lips to hers and let her lean into him as he massaged her lips with his. He broke away from her and let go of her wrists, cradling her face in his hands. "I love you more than life itself, Belle! Don't **ever **doubt that."

"Then why won't you make love to me?" she demanded, pulling away from him. This time he did smack her. Not too hard to leave a mark on her face, but enough to knock some sense into her. Immediately after he hit her, he pressed his lips to her cheek where his hand had assaulted her.

"Belle…I understand how traumatic this is for you. I understand that I made a huge mistake when I didn't rush to the hospital, to your side, the minute I heard," he said, taking in a deep breath before continuing. "I know how much this pregnancy meant to you…to us. But now is not the time for us to reconcile the loss. Do you understand?" he could see her eyes soften as she nodded slowly.

"Yes…you're right," she muttered. She fell into his embrace and began crying all over again. "Oh Rum, I'm so sorry—I don't know what came over me…" she apologized.

"I forgive you, love," he responded, stroking her hair. She turned her head to the side against his chest. It grew silent between the two of them, Belle's silent sniffles and the rustling of fabric the only sound

"Can we make a deal?" she asked softly…unsure. He looked down at her.

"Yes. What is it?" he asked. She gulped and pulled away, meeting his loving gaze.

"In one month, given that I feel ready; will you make love to me?" she asked. He thought for a moment, realizing that this was a reasonable offer. He pressed his lips to hers one more time.

"Of course…" he mumbled against her lips. She pulled back and set her hands in her lap, pulling the dress shirt farther over her thighs.

"And for now…can we just cuddle?" she asked quietly. Rumpelstiltskin's face softened as he took his distraught wife into his arms.

"Of course."


End file.
